


I Can't Breathe

by PerpetualGaynessOfASpider



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Depression, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insomnia, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Recovery, Scott is kind of a bad friend, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:14:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24639781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerpetualGaynessOfASpider/pseuds/PerpetualGaynessOfASpider
Summary: An exploration into Stiles' mental struggle and recovery after being possessed by the nogitsune - him dealing with his guilt and slowly healing with the help of Derek as they slowly build a relationship.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Melissa McCall/Sheriff Stilinski, Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura
Comments: 1
Kudos: 35





	1. The silence is deafening

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've ever posted a fic so go easy on me, and bear with me through my word babble filled with angst and sad.

It’s been a week since the nogitsune was taken care of. A week since Allison and Aiden died. A week since Stiles left the melancholy state of his bedroom. He lies there in his bed staring at the walls, watching the events play over and over again in his mind like a tape on repeat. He watches himself stab his best friend over and over again. He watches himself commit so many terrible acts against the people he loves, and worse than that – he remembers a part of himself enjoying it. He remembers enjoying the power that came with inflicting conflict and pain on his friends and family. He knows what he has done, and he doesn’t think that he will ever be able to forgive himself.

Stiles can’t look his father in the eye anymore. He doesn’t want to see the look of disgust on his face. Noah is the only family he has left and he’s not even sure he has him anymore after all of the lies and problems that he’s caused the exhausted sheriff.

Stiles climbs out from beneath his covers for the first time in what must be at least a day. He immediately pulls a hoodie over his long-sleeve shirt – unable to escape the chill that has clung to his body since the nogitsune left his body. He wonders if this is how Malia felt, and then promptly winces at the hazy memory of loosing his virginity when he was barely consciously present. Time to think about something else.

Stiles heads downstairs to perhaps eat for the first time in several days and blanches at the sudden feeling of loneliness. The kitchen and the living room are clean and untouched. Not a dish in the sink or even a pair of shoes near the door to prove that someone had been living in the space. The silence that he’d grown so used to was suddenly deafening. When was the last time he spoke to anyone? When was the last time he even saw his father?

Even before the whole mess with the nogitsune, he was hardly interacting with anyone. Scott was busy pining over Allison, and becoming best buds with Isaac, His father was picking up more and more shifts at the station, and always exasperated with Stiles’ antics and constant spew of lies and false truths. Everyone else in the supernatural gang of misfits could barely stand him on a good day so it’s not like they are were jumping at the chance to see Stiles. They certainly wouldn’t be after everything that he’s done. Because of him – Lydia lost a man that she cared for in some way. Because of him, Ethan lost his twin – his only family. Because of him Scott lost the love of his life and Isaac lost the girl that he loves. Chris – oh god Chris - lost the one last family member he had.

Stiles, in his flurry of never-ending thoughts doesn’t notice the tears streaming down his ashen cheeks. He doesn’t notice the tell-tale hitch in his chest and the quickening of his heartbeat as he spirals into another panic attack. His breathing quickens and he can feel the harsh beating of his heart. He can hear the pounding of his blood in his ears. He looks down to his hands – trying to reassure himself that he is himself – that he isn’t dreaming but finds that he can’t count his fingers through the haze of his tears. He frantically wipes at his eyes and cheeks – feeling his nails scratch his skin and having no care. He counts his fingers, pulling at them one by one with more force than he probably should in his weakened state, but the pain brings some clarity too – helps him focus on the task at hand.

He stays like that until the sun sets and there’s no light in the space aside from the moonlight outside shining through the windows. He doesn’t know how long he sat there, lost in his paranoia and fear, but when he does climb to his feet, his legs ache from misuse. He hikes up the stairs again – the mission for food forgotten.

Stiles closes his bedroom door and once again buries himself in the mountain of blankets that his bed has become – trying to forget the events of the last couple weeks and catch some much needed sleep.

He lays there for hours before his eyes slowly flutter shut and sleep overtakes him. Of course, the nightmares will come soon after and Stiles will scream himself awake just like he has every time he’s tried to sleep since the nogitsune shoved aside Stiles’ mind and took over his body.


	2. None of Them Will Ever Be The Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles goes to Allison's funeral

The sun rises in Beacon Hills like it is any other day. Not a cloud permeates the clear blue sky, allowing the sun to shine bright as the preparations are made for a somber occurrence. Today is Allison’s funeral. Today, all her friends, family and acquaintances will watch as her casket is lowered into the ground and covered over with dirt. In a few short hours she will be just another headstone in the quickly growing Beacon hills cemetery. 

Stiles’ dad knocked on his door about 15 minutes ago and told the heavy-hearted teenager that he would be leaving for the funeral shortly. The aging sheriff never bothered to open the door or ask if his son was planning on attending – assuming that he would be attached to Scott’s side for the ceremony. 

Stiles debates back and forth on whether or not he should attend the funeral before deciding to just go and if it is too much, then he would leave. He trudges to his closet and digs out his suit, quickly dressing and ignoring the fact that the suit is noticeably larger on his lanky body than it was the last time he had worn it. He brings himself to his bathroom, deciding that he should probably brush his teeth as he can’t remember the last time he had done so. Then again, he can’t remember much of anything that has happened in the last 2 weeks since Allison’s death. He mechanically begins brushing his teeth and catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the bathroom sink. 

He takes in the sight of his sharp cheekbones and jawline and the purpling bruises underneath his bloodshot eyes, and belatedly realizes that he looks like he too could be a corpse. 

Stiles realizes this must be what he looked like when he was being possessed by the nogitsune. This is the face that looked Scott in the eyes as he stabbed him. This is the face that Allison saw as she – 

Stiles’ breath catches in his throat and he rips his gaze away from the mirror, not being able to stand the sight of himself for another second. How can he expect everyone to look at him in the face and not see him for the murderer he is? How can Chris or Scott or Isaac or even Lydia look at his face and not be reminded of how his failure – his weakness – is what caused this funeral? 

Stiles’ vision blurs and he can feel the pounding of his heart in his chest like a constant reminder of how he is alive. He is alive and Allison is dead. Stiles doesn’t realize what he has done until his fist has already slammed into the mirror repeatedly – shattering it into pieces that fall onto the sink and counter. 

His breathing slows as his mind focuses on the pain coming from his hand and the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Once the beating of his heart is under control and at a more moderate rhythm, he takes note that there is thankfully no glass embedded in his hand, but it is bleeding. He quickly and sloppily bandages the hand without care and decides it is about time he heads out. 

He grabs his jeep’s keys and drives to the cemetery on autopilot. He doesn’t remember a second of the drive there, but now that he is at the cemetery, walking towards the sight that Allison will lie in for the years to come. 

Stiles walks towards the surrounding crowd knowing that he won’t be able to approach any of the people here to mourn the young Argent. He stays in the background for the burial ceremony, hoping and praying that he won’t be seen or noticed but knowing that he needs to stay and witness this. 

The ceremony is a stark contrast from the sunny and warm day. Chris gives a moving speech about how proud he is of his only daughter with tears in his eyes – showing more emotion than Stiles has ever had the privilege of seeing. Then, Lydia and Scott say a few words about the girl that truly changed their lives for the better. If it weren’t for Allison, Lydia might still be the shallow young girl hiding her intellect and emotions behind an uncaring facade. Without Allison, Scott might still be the naïve teenager lacking in any confidence. 

Allison Argent challenged each and every single one of them. She struggled with the morality of the decisions and actions being made in Beacon Hills and came out on the other side. She was manipulated and pulled in both directions of the supernatural battles going on and she managed to change the tide. Hunters – historically known to have questionable ethics and flexible codes – changed their ways because of her influence. She questioned what could be better than a hunter and found that being a protector was the clear choice. 

Allison’s’ death is a breaking point in Beacon Hills. Her loss will be felt by each individual person she made an impact on. There will always be a giant chasm in the place where she existed. None of them will ever be the same. 

Eventually the rest of the town will move on. They will mourn the girl that died much too early but will soon move on with their lives and forget about this day. But not them. Isaac will continue to be heartbroken and long for what could have been. Chris will never move on from the death of his only daughter. Lydia will never be the same without her first best friend at her side, pushing her to be the best version of herself. Scott will never forget the love of his life dying in his arms.

Stiles will never forgive himself for doing this to each of them. It wasn’t Scott or Allison that the nogitsune decided to go after. It was pale, defenseless, skinny Stiles. No one will ever forget that fact - least of all Stiles.


End file.
